


All that glitters is probably not Gold

by starbunny



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Angst, Halloween Oneshot, Hurt/Comfort, Low Chaos (Dishonored), Multi, Post-Low Chaos Ending, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8225215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbunny/pseuds/starbunny
Summary: Each chapter will be a oneshot that can be read separately from one another. Some will be serious, some will not, some may not even have a romantic pairing. Who knows. It's just a collection of anything I feel like writing. Hope you enjoy!





	1. Coloured Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corvo x The Outsider 
> 
> In which the Outsider is fascinated by a low-chaos Corvo, and starts to comfort him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written many months ago, I only dug it out now.

In many nights, Corvo holds Jessamine close in the bed, nuzzling his face into her neck and breathing in whatever fragrance she puts on in the morning. 

Corvo promises her everything: his life, his heart, his very existence. 

He says he’ll protect them, for as long as he lives. 

He says he’ll ensure Emily grows up happy and well. 

It’s a shame he doesn’t end up keeping that promise. 

Immobilised by supernatural magic, he’s forced to watch the red-cladded assassin sink a blade into Jessamine. He’s forced to watch the river of blood pooling on the ground as the last spark of her life disappears, just as the last sound of her voice fades away with a ghostly whisper. 

He is furious, helpless, and he wants nothing more than to see the assassin dead, but that fury is stolen from him, just as they stole his freedom and honour away. 

The next thing Corvo learns is pain. 

Hot brands, sharp knives, and blunt hammers do their job well, and Corvo’s body is soon covered in scars and fresh wounds. They want a confession, but Corvo thinks of the man in _red_ and young Emily, and the confession doesn’t come. They tears countless screams and cries from him, but never the words “I killed her”. 

When Corvo gets out of Coldridge, he feels more fear than relief. The city is grey and dark, filled with flesh-eating rats and a plague that makes you bleed from the eyes. Jessamine’s legacy, torn down by a man Corvo once trusted. His vision is _red_ , and he dreams of painting that _red_ coat with even more _red_ , dreams of inflicting pain, oh so much pain, _especially_ on that man with a long scar down his face. 

He hates himself for him, wishes the chains from Coldridge are put back onto him. He’s scared of what he’ll do. He’s scared of the dark, grim thoughts that see a man drenched in blood, limbs broken and flesh torn. 

By night, he is marked by a mysterious deity with black eyes. 

He doesn’t want it. 

He doesn’t want the power. 

He knows what power does to people, and Corvo pales at it, because his mind is tortured and dark, his thoughts as black as the eyes of the Outsider himself, and he doesn’t want to lose himself. 

And when Jessamine’s voice rings out with a squeeze of the heart, Corvo drops it out of pure shock, fixing the god with a horrified look. 

The Outsider doesn’t say anything.

Corvo wakes up with the brand on his hand, and he wants it off so desperately. He doesn’t want to _want_. He doesn’t want to feed his murky, nightmarish mind. 

Corvo learns the name of the scarred man in _red_ : Daud. He finally has a name to the face that has haunted him for months. He finally has someone to hate. 

Then they send him after Campbell, and Corvo almost goes into a berserk rage when he sees the _red_ coat on Campbell. It takes everything in him to pull back the sword, to quieten his thoughts of murder and hurt. There is a scream of agony held back in his throat as he brands Campbell, and there is a choked cry painfully swallowed down when he saves Curnow. 

He never gets the chance to set it free, sucking back the pain that lies deep in his heart, so heavy on his soul, so suffocating in his throat. 

He is beyond thankful when he sees Samuel, so relieved to take the mask off, because he is taken away, taken away from the people Corvo can’t help but want to hurt. 

When he sleeps, he sees rats, plague, _red, red_ , so much _red_ , that Corvo always jolts awake wanting to claw his own eyes out and turn himself blind so he could be spared the suffering from seeing the _red_. 

He is sent after the Pendleton twins next. 

Corvo’s footsteps are heavy, his body sluggish, but his sword arm twitches at the sight of a vulnerable neck, an exposed chest, an open back. He hates it. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold himself back before the darkness consumes him and sets loose a monster no chains can hold down. 

When he sees Emily, the shadows retreat, and the world doesn’t feel so _red_ anymore. His sword feels lighter, and his arm stops twitching. 

She is still small, frail, dressed in white just as Corvo remembers, and he hugs her, wishes for the strength to go on. 

When Corvo returns to Samuel’s boat, he can’t help but imagine her white clothes destroyed by the _red_ , her face contorting with pain, a scream breaking out from her lips.

Corvo doesn’t get a chance to rest, and is sent after Sokolov immediately, when all Corvo wants is to hold Emily’s hand once more. 

The mission is a blur. 

He remembers freeing the prisoners, remembers saving a woman from the rats, remembers carrying Sokolov back to Samuel. 

He goes to see Emily late at night, sees her tossing and turning from nightmares, and his heart aches so much. 

Corvo doesn’t talk much anymore. He can’t, not when he is reminded of the hot brands in Coldridge. But he tries anyway, for Emily’s sake. 

Emily knows he’s in pain, but she doesn’t know what to do. She knows Corvo wakes up covered in sweat, face white, but Corvo only smiles weakly at her in reassurance, claiming he’s fine. 

Corvo can’t bear to tell her. 

He can’t tell her the kind of cruel things his mind invents at night, a feverish wreck of savagery that slowly eats away at his sanity, whispering for Corvo to give up. To give in. To be free. 

The next day, Corvo buys brandy off Piero. The mere thought of setting loose a swarm of rats on Sokolov makes him want to throw up, and he can’t bear to do something like that to a man Jessamine once confided in. 

Sokolov takes the gift with both hands, murmuring a few words of thanks to Corvo after Havelock leaves. 

Corvo doesn’t meet his eyes, but nods anyway. 

He heads off to the Boyle’s party next. 

There is laughter and music, so unlike the desolate, barren ruins of a city outside. The smell of luxurious food hangs in the air, but Corvo can’t stomach it. 

It is too rich, too filling, too flavourful, and Corvo feels faintly nauseous just looking at it. 

He gives a drink to Miss White, and looks around the party. 

Some inkling of bravado makes him sign the guest ledger, and he is satisfied seeing his name penned down neatly on the list. 

And when he finds out that Brisby is not Boyle’s lover, he barely staggers out of the party, numb. He can’t see Samuel yet. Samuel is so kind, respectful, his eyes clear and honest, and Corvo just can’t bear to have his gaze on him, judging and accusing, laying out his vile intentions for all to see. 

He takes out the heart, and focuses on a shrine nearby in an abandoned apartment. 

He stumbles there, his mind clouded and foggy. 

He is careless.

He doesn’t see the weepers.

Doesn’t see them until their hands are on him and Corvo can’t run.

It is too late. 

Minutes later, Corvo’s blade is dripping, the metallic stench fresh in the air, suffocating _red_ straining his hands and clothes. 

Three bodies lie on the floor carpeted by blood.

Dead because of him. 

**_Red_** is _everywhere_. 

He feels so sick. 

His head hurts, he can feel his heartbeat in his ears, and his face burns. He is trembling, he sees nothing but **_red_** , smells nothing but the **_red_**. 

The mask is torn off, flung to a corner of the room, and Corvo heaves. His breaths become strangled, in short gasps, and he collapses to the ground, guttural cry escaping him as overwhelming pain completely drowns him. 

He doesn’t remember what happens next. 

When he wakes, it’s been an hour. He is lying on the floor with the mask and rune on his chest. 

He doesn’t remember picking up the rune. 

His sword is clean; his clothes are devoid of bloodstains too, and smell faintly of salt. 

Corvo returns back to Samuel in a hurry, too occupied at the moment to think of what had happened. 

His dreams start to alter after that. They remain _red_ , but fade into a faint blue and purple that feels like a healing balm to Corvo’s wretched mind. 

Corvo stops waking up panting and pale. 

When he goes for Burrows, he is delighted to see him being dragged away by the City Watch, his confessions blaring on loudspeakers throughout the entirety of Dunwall. 

He is eager to return, to see Emily again. 

The **_red_** bites him back in the form of betrayal, hot with vengeance. 

As he lies on the boat poisoned and weakened, he can only think of his young girl stained by **_red_** , brought up covered in **_red_** , in turn dying the city back in **_red_** , so much **_red_**. **_Red_** everywhere, until there is nothing left. 

He sees the **_red_** -cladded assassin next, and the fury that sears through him almost makes Corvo let loose the monster within him. 

He hates himself for it. 

Hates Daud even more. 

But his relief is given to him in unconsciousness, a blunt blow to the back of his head.

When he finds himself in the Void, he can’t seem to want to move. 

He looks over the ledge, into the deep endless abyss. It feels as though he might find some peace in it, cocooned in the Void’s tendrils of power. 

So he jumps, closes his eyes, wishes for emptiness. 

He is returned back thrice, and Corvo looks out again, ready to step over. 

**_“Stop it.”_** The command booms with the weight of the stars and moon combined, and Corvo steps away. 

When he finally complies with the god’s wishes, the god starts his speech. 

Corvo is barely listening, and he is only looking into the Outsider’s eyes. 

_Do you want to see me break?_ Is what Corvo wants to say, but doesn’t. He knows the god hears it anyway, as clear as words scribbled on a paper. 

The Outsider is silent afterwards, his dark gaze on Corvo, curious. Corvo is then returned to the world, thrown back into his body wrecked with pain and hurt. 

He only thinks of Emily, and keeps his body moving step by step. His body is weak with a fever, and his stomach is hurting with a ravenous, sharp pang. 

Blood is dripping off his blade when Daud begs for his life, and Corvo is stunned to silence. 

Corvo listens to his confession, listens to him talk of guilt, regret, pain. Corvo is very familiar with those feelings. 

He thinks of Emily, thinks of the Outsider’s stare, and somehow, he has the strength to let Daud go. 

The assassin disappears with a flash, and then the exhaustion starts to set in. His vision is more grey than _red_ now, hampered by whatever poison is coursing through his body. 

He knows if he stops moving, he’s likely to collapse and sleep for days, or more possibly, die. So Corvo trudges on, through the sewers, past the river krusts. 

He saves Slackjaw, and by then, he can barely stand. His body aches and his head hurts. 

His knees give way when he opens the steel door, and he barely sees the tell-tale purple light and the outline of a shrine on top of the stairs before he collapses. 

He doesn’t feel the hard knock against the floor however, he feels impossibly soft hands and a cool touch instead. 

He blacks out. 

He wakes feeling a lot better than before. His fever is gone, and his sword is once again clean. The rune lies on his chest, and Corvo blinks a few times before getting up. 

The aches and pains are still there, but Corvo feels well enough to move. He can think more clearly, and he feels more energised. 

He nods a little towards the shrine, and heads off. 

Corvo saves Sokolov and Piero easily enough, and when Samuel appears in the distant horizon, Corvo feels so relieved. 

His mission in Kingsparrow island goes off smoother than expected. He has a few near misses with the guards, and he sneaks into the lighthouse quickly and urgently. 

He shoots Havelock with a sleeping dart, and when he finally opens the door to Emily’s room, his heart melts with sheer relief when Emily’s clothes are still white, the red nowhere in sight. 

He is declared innocent, and Emily is put back on the throne within days. 

Corvo remains by her side, silent, ever-watching. 

He starts to talks more, and his hand eventually stops shaking when he does so. Emily is happy. 

His dreams no longer hurt. The red is long gone, replaced by hues of blue and purple that Corvo takes comfort in. 

Months pass, and Sokolov and Piero find a cure for the plague. The plague retreats within weeks of the ground-breaking discovery, and the grey, rotten stink in the city slowly disappears. 

People start to populate the streets once more, and soon, homes are re-occupied, shops are opened, and Dunwall starts to prosper once more. People start to chatter, and they stop recoiling at the sight of the City Watch. 

Corvo’s dreams also evolve with time. 

The blues and purples eventually become overtaken by curious fingers, cool to the touch. Then come soft words spoken in a smooth voice. 

Corvo finds that he doesn’t mind.


	2. How to Encourage a Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corvo x Daud 
> 
> In which Daud is smitten with Corvo and Corvo decides to take advantage of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This...uh...well...I have zero excuses. I'm so ashamed this exists.

It is finally Fugue Feast. Normally, Daud would be out performing assassinations, for a price jacked up so high that their earnings from Fugue Feast alone could quite possibly tide the whalers through the year, if not for the whalers's excessive alcohol consumption habits.

Daud has been ordered by Corvo to keep a close watch on Emily. Assassination attempts during Fugue aren't uncommon, Daud knows this of course, so he understands Corvo's worry. Corvo has paid him very generously for this job, just for him to personally defend Emily if needed instead of sending his whalers. Daud doesn't tell him the real cost of his services, lies to him in fact, but somehow, Corvo manages to defy expectations and pay him _more_ than what he usually charges. 

Fugue this year is quiet, and the Empress survives the night. Daud watches Emily finally go to bed, and he lets out a sigh, preparing to head home. But a tap on his shoulder (Daud tries not to startle but he does, and he knows he had seen an amused expression cross Corvo's face), and a beckoning finger makes Daud sigh internally. He is tired after all, and he wants nothing more than to go back home to get some rest. 

But Corvo _has_ paid him, so Daud follows the man back.

Corvo doesn't talk much, but Daud can understand him perfectly well, or rather, Corvo makes himself understood. Corvo takes Daud to his office, and motions for Daud to sit down on one of the cushioned chairs.

"I'll stand." Daud says.

Corvo just looks at him, opens his mouth,

"Sit down."

They exchange a glance, and Daud surrenders, settling down without another word. Corvo goes to his desk, sighs a little as he slumps into the chair.

He looks exhausted, Daud notices. Corvo's always alert and sharp in the day, and rarely does Daud get to see Corvo give in to the bone-deep tiredness that plagues his body.

Corvo rummages in one of his drawers, and Daud watches silently, not at all appreciating the sight of Corvo's back muscles shifting under his clothes.

Corvo pulls out a bottle of wine, and glances over at Daud.

"Share?"

He looks expectant, and Daud only has a blank look on his face.

"..Sure." Daud drags the reply out, uncertain.

Corvo perks up slightly, and he opens the bottle.

The smell, fruity and rich, fills the air, and Daud observes Corvo pulling out wine glasses to pour the wine into.

Why does he keep wine glasses in his desk? Daud vaguely wonders. 

Then he remembers Jessamine, and he swallows a little. 

Daud takes the glass Corvo offers him with a grunt of thanks, sips the wine.

It is good, expensive, strong, Daud marvels, and he continues drinking.

He doesn't realise Corvo's been watching him until Daud looks up to meet his eyes.

Corvo licks his lips, and Daud's eyes are drawn to his thin mouth. Daud's eyes shift back up to see Corvo staring at him.

He must know, Daud thinks in horror, not for the first time. He surely knows that Daud stares at him longer than he should, _much_ longer than he should. 

Corvo always seems to know what Daud is thinking, and Daud should feel terribly vulnerable under his hawk-eyed gaze, but he doesn't, not really. 

Corvo never discusses it, but Daud knows that the bodyguard knows a lot more than he lets on. He's damn right capable of finding out secrets and information by himself; he could quite possibly do it better than Daud. 

Corvo empties his glass, and he pours himself another. Daud is not even halfway through his.

"How are the whalers?"

The question surprises Daud, because Corvo hardly ever talks.

"They're good."

A silence follows.

Corvo refills Daud's glass when it is empty, and Daud bites back a protest.

This whole…situation…is bizarre. Corvo is downright…amiable, and this is almost friendly.

Corvo finishes his glass again, pours another. His face is slightly flushed, and the sight, fuelled by alcohol, makes Daud's thoughts head into a rather inappropriate direction.

When the bottle is empty, Corvo makes a disgruntled noise, and Daud resists the urge to smirk. He looks like a child who'd been denied cake at dinner.

Corvo then pulls out a piece of paper and scribbles something on it. He passes it to Daud.

Daud, a little disorientated from the alcohol, can't help the small frown that appears on his face as he reads it.

There are a lot of names there.

 _Not again._

Half the names there are nobles so well-protected and secretive that getting any dirt on them would be extremely tedious indeed. 

"When do you want this by?" Daud asks instead, trying to hide his displeasure. It leaks out anyway.

"By the end of the week."

Daud's frown deepens. Corvo studies him closely, blinking slowly, as unreadable as always. 

Suddenly, the man steps forth, right into Daud's personal space.

Startled, Daud takes a step back. Corvo just patiently pulls him back by his bandolier, and leans in. 

Corvo's lips brush against Daud’s, and Daud just freezes.

Corvo bites down on Daud’s lip, making a short gasp escape, and Corvo presses in. 

He tastes like wine, and it is _so good_. 

How many times has Daud dreamt of this? How many times has he imagined ghostly touches on his own skin, trying to mimic Corvo’s heat, Corvo’s touch? 

Daud should push him away, he really _should_ , except he can’t. The heat between them is intoxicating, alluring, and Daud wants _more_. 

Corvo's grip tightens, his other hand is braced around Daud's head, keeping him still while Corvo turns Daud’s mind into a foggy mess. 

Daud’s face heats up involuntarily, and his thoughts melt away as Corvo presses deeper still. Daud can feel his arms wanting to wrap around Corvo, to push him back, pin him, and-

Corvo draws back, and the heat is abruptly gone. A helpless whine is about to escape Daud, and he swallows it back in furiously.

"An encouragement." Corvo then says, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

Daud stares back blankly, dumbfounded. His heart is racing, and every inch of his skin that Corvo has touched is scorching, tingling. 

"If you want more…" Corvo begins, his voice velvet. 

Daud swallows involuntarily.

"…you'd best be giving me the information soon." Corvo finishes.

Corvo tilts his head to the side, as a small smirk inches its way up his lips. Corvo’s words sink in, and Daud instantly looks away, turning away to leave. 

As he is blinking away on the rooftops, no amount of Dunwall’s chilly winds and cool air could wipe away the annoying flush on Daud’s face, and Daud is cursing under his breath in three different languages all the way back home.

He knows he really shouldn’t fall for that. 

He honestly shouldn’t. 

But his body sings for it, his skin burns for Corvo’s touch, and his mind – traitorous as it is – starts conjuring inappropriate thoughts throughout the day. 

Daud absolutely hates himself for being so motivated for the next few days.

When he brings the information to Corvo days early, even Corvo is surprised. Corvo tilts his head - in that adorable fashion Daud will never admit he likes – and smiles faintly at Daud.

"I didn't think that would wor-”

Daud doesn't let him finish. He sinks his fingers into Corvo's hair (it's softer than Daud imagined), and his lips collide into Corvo’s, erasing that stupid smirk off his insufferably handsome face.


	3. What happens in Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A halloween oneshot in a modern AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by Harvey Smith's tweets about the Dishonored characters' attitude towards Halloween. I had a lot of fun writing this throughout the whole of October, and I hope you enjoy!

It is 31st of October, Halloween, festival of the night, the time to showcase one’s skill at carving pumpkins, the time to hoard all sorts of candy, nuggets of sugar with ludicrous amounts of food colouring. 

…Or maybe it's the time when the Dunwall neighbourhood suddenly forsakes _centuries_ of technological advancement to return to the old days of using primitive candles for light. 

It is the one day to showcase the merry joys of dress up and festivities, and it is also Corvo’s most _dreaded_ holiday of the year. 

“Remind me why I have to do this again..?” Corvo sighs out loud, gesturing to his costume. 

He’s standing in the middle of the living room, dressed in way too many layers to his liking, being forced to participate in this stupid event just like every other year since he married Jessamine.

And Jessamine, queen of the Kaldwin household, is grinning at him, positively pleased at the way her handmade costume looks on Corvo. 

Her dark hair is tied up in a high bun, set in place by pins and a thick layer of hairspray, finished off with a generous coat of some kind of glitter spray. She’s also wearing a yellow adornment at the side – a hair pin Corvo had bought for her – and it is of a simple design (like anything Corvo owns), small golden leaves arranged in a curve, spreading out near the ends like flower petals. 

“It’s _Halloween._ Don’t be such a spoilsport! It’s going to be fun! Even Emily is into it.” 

“She’s a kid. Kids get excited over everything.” Corvo mutters dully.

Jessamine waves her hand dismissively, her glittery painted nails shimmering under the light. 

Anyone not knowing the Kaldwin household would have thought that it would be _Emily_ who makes the biggest fuss about Halloween, but…they are very wrong. 

_Jessamine_ is the one driving the Halloween spirit into the Kaldwin household every year without fail, always months prior, and she never shows signs of losing enthusiasm for this event each year (much to Corvo’s dismay). 

And this year, she’s chosen to be some kind of…Victorian empress. 

When she first made the suggestion to Corvo - in early August, because apparently _September_ is much too late to start preparing for such a momentous occasion - he just deadpanned, 

“You know they wear those balloon dresses, all frills, ribbons…everything you hate?” 

Jessamine had given him a look, before grinning.

“Then I shall be a _modern_ Victorian empress. The first in the royal line to wear pants!” 

Corvo simply ignored her, returning back to reading the newspapers, as disinterested as he was every damn year. The last time he tried to argue with Jessamine about her choice of Halloween costume, he was stuffed into a terribly made vampire costume on Halloween itself, and that made him the biggest joke in the entire neighbourhood. And that’s saying _a lot_ , since he has no shortage of creepy, weird neighbours.

Corvo sighs, suddenly thinking about his neighbours again. What’s worse than being forced to dress up and role-play (until it reaches Jessamine’s satisfaction) is being forced to play civil with the numerous oddballs and eccentric crackpots Corvo wants nothing to do with. It’s like trying to mingle with a bunch of strange alien animals masquerading as humans, and the interactions are both amusing and annoying at the same time.

“How do I look?” Jessamine suddenly says, breaking Corvo out of his train of thought. 

Corvo looks up. 

Jessamine looks…well, she looks beautiful, she always does, but she looks _nicer_ than usual this time, fit in a high-collared white shirt and black coat, a handmade brooch pined to the centre of her neck. 

But then Corvo frowns. 

“Victorian Empresses don’t wear black. And they don’t wear _pants_.” 

“I’m not a mere Victorian Empress.” Jessamine states, crossing her arms in a grandiose interpretation of how she thinks a member of royalty would behave. “I’m a _modern_ Victorian Empress! We’ll carve a bright future for our city by casting a ban on all skirts and flouncing dresses! _Pants_ shall be the new direction we head towards!” 

Corvo just sighs.

“Now you remember your role, right?” Jessamine continues, undeterred. 

Corvo gives her a blank stare. 

“You’re my bodyguard.” Jessamine reminds him. 

Corvo stops, and looks down at his own costume once again, a dark blue coat falling past his knees, gold embroidery all over (also made by Jessamine), with a similarly embroidered vest underneath. 

“Wait…I’m a _bodyguard?!_ ” 

How does this costume represent a _bodyguard?!_ Which bodyguard wears such a heavy flamboyant coat?!

Jessamine frowns at him. 

“Corvo! I’ve talked about this! I will be a Victorian empress – a _modern_ Victorian empress – Empress of Dunwall, and you shall be my bodyguard, my _Royal Protector_ , Corvo…Attano.” 

Corvo blinks back. 

“ _Why_ Attano? What’s wrong with Kaldwin?” 

“I _told_ you, because Empresses can’t marry their own bodyguards. Come on, we went over this! I’m the Empress, I chose you as a bodyguard when I was twelve. Then we fell in love and had a secret affair, and then-” 

“Why can’t I just be the Emperor then?” 

“Because it’s not as exciting!” Jessamine says, as a matter-of-factly, and grins. 

Corvo is about to protest, when Emily bounces into the living room, a plastic sword in hand. 

“I am Emily Kaldwin, and I will be seizing control of this ship! Now hand over the treasure or you’ll be walking the plank!!” 

She has a felt eyepatch over one eye (made by Jessamine), and she’s dressed in white, purposefully torn at several areas and patched together with rough, clumsy stitches. Dressed as a pirate, of course. Emily has had an obsession with pirates for quite some time now, and her choosing to dress up as one was almost inevitable. 

But - and Corvo frowns - she also has one too many ribbons sewn into her clothes, ruining the otherwise decent pirate costume. Well…Emily _does_ like ribbons on everything…

“Alas! Corvo, save me!” Jessamine hides behind Corvo and peers over with mock horror, all while prodding Corvo in the back to signal him to play along. 

Corvo sighs internally. The things he will do for them…

He turns back to Emily. 

“Fret not, my lady! I, Corvo _Attano_ , your…Royal Protector, will save you from this dreadful pirate! You are safe with me. Now begone, pirate scum!” 

Emily breaks into a goofy smile at that, her eyes shining with excitement. 

“Charge!!!” Emily screams, as she runs forth with her plastic sword. 

Corvo quickly bends over to scoop her up with both hands, lifting her into the air. 

Emily giggles – Corvo smiles at that – and she proceeds to beat down on Corvo with her sword, yelling “die, die, die!”.

“A formidable foe. But you will not best me!” Corvo says, and Emily laughs even more, still battering Corvo on the head with the flimsy plastic toy. 

Jessamine laughs once, and then she breaks in. 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough. We’re going to be late if we don’t go soon.” She says, and Emily gives Corvo’s head a final whack before flashing an impish grin. Corvo lets her down, ruffling her hair affectionately. 

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Emily points to the door with her sword raised and charges towards it, bouncing up and down. 

The porch outside is not spared the Halloween cheer either, and it has been decorated with care (done by Jessamine, of course), cartoonish ghosts and skulls pasted nearly everywhere, with a variety of carved pumpkins in the yard. 

Jessamine leaves candy outside, in a bright luminescent orange basin by the porch, and she makes a few adjustments to the fake spiders and cobwebs glued to the surface. 

Emily rushes forth down the pavement, swinging her sword, with appropriate sound effects, and Corvo makes his way down, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious of his costume. 

After the horrible, _horrible_ vampire costume last year, he had made Jessamine promise to make him something with less…splendour this time, and while this particular costume is certainly many levels better than what he wore last year, Corvo is still undeniably a little uncomfortable wearing it. 

Emily suddenly starts jumping and yelling, waving to somebody in the distance, and Corvo looks up. 

It is Billie Lurk, few years older than Emily and the adopted child of Daud, who lives right beside Corvo. 

Billie waves back, and she runs forth to greet Emily. 

“Emily! I see you are dressed up as a mighty pirate this year.” 

“What are you dressed as?” Emily asks, waving her sword in the air. 

Billie is dressed in red, plastic toy sword strapped to her side, with some kind of mask tucked under her arm. She puts on the mask (that looks something eerily similar to a gas mask) and draws the sword, settling into a fighting stance. 

“I’m a master assassin!” 

Emily giggles, and goes into her own fighting stance. 

The two start to trade blows, with dramatic sound effects, and Corvo turns his attention to the man – Daud – now walking towards them. 

He is dressed in a similar coat as Billie, only bigger, and he doesn’t have a mask like her. 

“Not a vampire this time, huh? No fuchsia cape and feather scarves?” He says as a greeting, his voice rough and gravelly. 

Corvo glares at him. 

Daud has a fake scar down half his face - which is actually pretty well done - but Corvo will never tell him that, of course. 

“And you are still a spectacular old piece of shit as always.” 

Daud’s eye twitches in irritation at being called ‘old’. 

“So, what is it this time?” Daud nods towards the costume. 

The both of them don’t usually get along, and Halloween seems to be the only day the two can talk on near friendly terms, being forced to participate in the festive cheer by overly-enthusiastic family members. 

“He’s Corvo _Attano_ , my bodyguard.” Jessamine breaks in, smiling. “And I-” She points to herself. “I am the Empress.” 

Daud looks at Jessamine, and back at Corvo, with the faintest shred of sympathy, before he returns back to the asshole he always is. 

“ _Attano_ , huh?” Daud smirks, and Corvo glares at him. 

“Well, what are _you_ supposed to be?” 

Daud is about to say something, probably something terribly rude, but Billie cuts in, momentarily stopping her battle with Emily. 

“He’s an assassin! I’m the master assassin and he’s _my_ student.” 

“Fool, I’m the master, and _you’re_ the student.” Daud corrects. 

“Then I will usurp you!” Billie declares, sword pointing to Daud. 

Daud rolls his eyes and ignores her. 

“What’s the scar for? It’s really well done, by the way.” Jessamine says. 

“It’s supposed to make him scary!” Billie explains. 

“Oh, he doesn’t need a scar to make him scary. His face does that job well enough. Staring at it is just as good as watching all the Halloween horror movies on television.” Corvo says, and Daud just narrows his eyes, wanting to say something vulgar and offensive but refrains from doing so in Billie’s and Emily’s presence. 

“Stop it, you two.” Jessamine chastises, and both men quieten.

\----------

Then both families start to head out with Emily and Billie leading the way, the two children chattering excitably in front. 

They are talking about pirate ships, or something similar. 

“My ship will be called the Undine.” Emily is saying. “I am the leader of all the pirates, and we shall be known as the Dead Eels.”

Billie scoffs. 

“That’s so lame! Well _my ship_ will be called the Dreadful Wale. Billie Lurk, Captain of the Dreadful Wale! See?” 

“But you’re already an assassin, you can’t be a ship captain too!” Emily protests. 

“I’m an assassin _and_ a ship captain.” 

“That’s cheating!” 

Billie sticks out her tongue at Emily, and they continue bickering with each other, until they all stop before the next house, a street away. 

It is a large house, pots of plants and flowers all over the porch, with little colourful furry spiders tied to the branches by twine. 

Billie and Emily go up to ring the doorbell. 

The barking of numerous dogs are immediately heard when the doorbell rings, and the door opens shortly after. 

“Trick or treat!” Billie and Emily say, and a lady, the sole occupant of the house, steps out. 

Delilah’s hair is slicked backwards, dark eyeshadow all over her eyelids, and she beams at Emily and Billie. 

“Oh, my darlings, you two look so cute!” She coos. 

“I’m an assassin!” 

“And I’m a pirate!” Emily says proudly, puffing out her chest and waving her sword. 

“Can you guess what I am?” Delilah asks, sly smile on her face. 

Emily and Billie look her down. 

Delilah is dressed mainly in black, fake flowers and leaves sewn into her clothes. She’s in tights, with long strips of cloth twined around her legs in seemingly random patterns, probably meant to represent vines of some sort. 

“Hm…a witch?” Billie guesses. 

Delilah smiles. 

“That’s right! I’m a witch. A _plant_ witch, more specifically.” 

Billie pulls off her mask, black hair bobbing up and down as she shakes her hair free. Her eyes are bright, glowing with mischief. 

“If you’re a witch, it means you have magic powers, right?” 

Delilah nods, and Billie’s smile widens. 

“Well, can you help me with a little something?” 

“What is it?” 

“You see Daud over there, the stupid old man?” Billie points vaguely in Daud’s direction. “He keeps insisting that _he’s_ the master assassin and _I’m_ the student. That’s a little unfair, isn’t it? I mean, I’m the one that actually wears a mask.” Billie pouts. 

Delilah glances up at Daud, eyes sparkling with amusement, and she looks back at Billie, whispering, 

“Yes, it _is_ unfair.” Delilah smiles. “I can help you overthrow him, but it must remain a secret, okay?” 

Billie nods eagerly, grinning, while Daud just stares at them stone-faced, clearly unamused. 

Just then, a large mass suddenly bounds past Delilah, paws skittering across the floor. It rushes out of the door, and barges straight for Corvo with a sharp bark. 

Corvo immediately grins and bends down, allowing the dog – Melina – to greet him. Melina starts to lick him enthusiastically, and Corvo pets it in return, with equal fervour. Daud discretely steps away, disgusted by all the slobbering and tail wagging. 

Delilah whispers something else to Billie, which makes her grin, and then she heads back in to bring out a bowl of candy. She hands a large scoopful each to both Emily and Billie, and then walks out to speak to Jessamine. The two are close friends after all, they often spend long afternoons terrorising the local shopping mall, pestering the staff and gossiping about anything and everything. 

Corvo pays them no attention and continues to spoil Melina. He hasn’t seen the little rascal for some time now, and he admittedly has a soft spot for animals, dogs in particular.

The two children quickly get bored and and start to explore Delilah’s yard, checking out the latest series of plants and flowers Delilah is growing, while Daud leans against the wall, bored. 

Emily focuses her attention on the one apple tree Delilah grows in her yard. It’s been there for years, even before Corvo moved in, and it’s Emily’s favourite tree in the whole neighbourhood. She has tried many times to climb it (even though Corvo constantly tells her not to), especially so during the apple season when Delilah’s tree start to sprout large, red apples, glossier and sweeter than the apples from the local supermarket. 

“Don’t even think about it.” Corvo immediately says, when he sees Emily about to reach for the nearest branch. 

Emily flashes Corvo an impish grin, and she retreats, still staring at the tree determinedly, waiting for Corvo to look away before she goes about climbing it. Stubborn girl. 

Delilah gives Corvo a sympathetic look. She doesn’t actually mind Emily climbing her tree, but she knows Corvo _does mind_ , and she quickly walks over to Emily to dissuade her from actually doing the deed. 

“You shouldn’t climb the tree, not today.” Delilah tells her. 

Emily looks at Delilah wide-eyed. 

“Why not?” 

“Ah, you see those..?” Delilah points towards the string of red fairy lights wrapped around the tree’s branches. 

“The tree has been imbued with magic today. I’m a witch remember? It’s a magical tree, called the…uh…Blood Briar. If you get too close to it, the branches will pull you in and never let you go!” 

Emily’s eyes widen even more. She stares at the tree suspiciously, giving it a tentative poke with her sword before darting away. 

Delilah laughs, Corvo smiles, and Emily stays away from the tree for the remainder of their time at Delilah’s house.

\----------

The next house they visit is just across the road, an odd wooden thing, nearly in shambles, and very dark. 

Emily is the first to trot up, and she knocks on the door (the house has no doorbell). 

“Heeellllooo?” 

There is footsteps, and then the door creaks open, revealing an elderly woman, hair pinned up in a bun with a large brooch at the front. 

“Hello there, my dearies.” 

“Trick or treat!” The children say in sync. 

Granny Rags (she insists to be called that, for whatever reason) chuckles, and she goes to take the candy, coming back out shortly after. 

“Here’s a birdie chocolate for you,” she drops the candy in Emily’s bucket, “and a birdie chocolate for you!” she drops another in Billie’s. 

Emily peers into her bucket, and then she laughs. 

“You’re funny, Granny! This is a rat, not a birdie!” 

Granny Rags gives her a perplexed look, and Emily fishes out the wrapped up chocolate to show her. 

The old woman squints at the chocolate, bringing it close to her face, before laughing. 

“Oh dear, you’re right. Ah, my eyes aren’t what they used to be.” 

Emily and Billie both grin at her, and Granny Rags waves to them goodbye shortly after, saying that she ‘left soup boiling on the stove’. 

They visit Havelock next, a war veteran and a man of few words. He gives the children candy without much complaint before sending them off on their way. They visit Cecelia next – she’s not at home - but she leaves the candy on the porch for the children, which Emily and Billie take gratefully. Martin is next, he’s a priest, but they quickly leave after getting the candy, because Daud and Martin tend to start arguing whenever they are around each other longer than five minutes (the two are sworn enemies for some reason). 

Next on the list is Piero, eccentric inventor. 

He makes odd contraptions, some genius, others flops, and he sometimes gets commissioned to make several…questionable devices Corvo shudders to even think about. When the children head to his home, he gives them each a strange clockwork toy, and the two start playing with it immediately, curious. 

Piero exchanges a few words with Jessamine, and then when he sees Corvo, decked in his embarrassing coat and vest, he immediately takes his sketchbook and a pen, mumbling something about ‘the perfect skull mask to go along with that outfit’. 

They quickly leave after that. 

The next house they come across is Samuel’s, the most tolerable neighbour in Corvo’s mind. The two go on fishing trips together sometimes (although it’s Samuel doing the fishing, while Corvo does more of the eating). Samuel gives Emily and Billie some fish-shaped gummies. 

The Curnow family is next, and Emily is especially excited when her tutor, Callista Curnow, comes out. Emily enjoys playing hide and seek with her, which can often be both infuriating and exasperating for Callista when's she's trying to conduct history lessons for the bubbly little girl that can't seem to sit still for more than five minutes. Corvo and Jessamine often apologise to Callista about it, although she says it's fine. 

When the sun finally sets and it is dark outside, they leave Curnow’s house, and head towards _his_ house, for the neighbourhood’s annual Halloween party. 

\-----------

His mansion never fails to look like something that came out from a movie set, gothic and eerie. It is decorated extravagantly this year (as it is every year), strings of odd decorations and strange figurines all over. 

Expensive fog machines line the edges of the massive building, pumping out artificially-created clouds of dense smoke, bathing the old mansion in whitish tones, coloured faintly purple by the huge spotlights on his porch, each fitted with purple lenses. 

“Over the top, showy, ostentatious, as per bloody usual.” Daud grumbles. “You would think it can’t get worse every year…” 

For once, Daud says something Corvo actually agrees with, and he nods. 

“And - wait, is that a _whale?!_ ” Daud narrows his eyes at some kind of statue beside the door. 

Corvo gives it a quick glance. 

Many smaller lights are on the ground, casting a bright light upon the statue. The statue is easily the most luminous object in the whole mansion, clearly screaming ‘look at me!’, and when Corvo peers at it for another second, he realises that it is, indeed, a whale. 

Corvo just frowns. 

He has no idea how _he_ decides what absurd theme he uses each Halloween, but it appears that his newest obsession is whales. 

They head up his porch, and Corvo gets a closer look at the ridiculous stone whale. The whale isn’t…normal. It has more fins than usual, way more fins, and its teeth are clearly visible, almost like a shark. 

But before Corvo can make a snarky remark about it, the door flies open, and _he_ stands at the doorway, looking…surprisingly normal, actually. He’s dressed in a brown jacket, pants and boots, almost too plain for somebody like him. 

But that is only until Corvo looks up, and he realises that the man is wearing creepy black contacts, those that span across his entire eyeball.

_Ah._ And there is that dash of weirdness that Corvo knew was missing. 

“Hello there my dear Corvo.” He smiles, in that stupidly cheerful grin that irks him.

“I’m not your dear anything.” Corvo instantly replies, and the grin widens. 

“And Daud my old friend. It’s always nice to see familiar faces.”

“Black-eyed bastard.” Daud greets. “You know, I would really love to give you a _real_ black-eye.” 

The children, completely ignorant to their animosity, grin at him. 

“Hello!” Emily greets first, and _he_ smiles at them fondly. 

“Ah, hello. I see the mansion is graced with the presence of a pirate and an assassin today.” 

The two children brighten up. 

“What are you dressed as today?” Emily asks. 

“Me? Oh, I’m a supernatural deity, simply named ‘The Outsider’, blessed with powers derived from the Void, a paragon of good and evil. Otherwise called the mighty leviathan, I am despised by the masses, who don’t understand the power-”

“Oh great, not again…” Corvo mumbles. 

Corvo gets ignored of course, and _he_ starts rambling on and on of some great history that Corvo just doesn’t care about. 

When _he_ finally finishes, Emily points to his eyes, 

“Your eyes are so black, how do you do that?” 

“Contacts.” “Magic.” Corvo and _him_ say at the same time. 

Emily considers it for a moment, before saying,

“Magic is cooler.” 

“Right?” 

Corvo just groans, and remains silent. 

“Well, come on in.” _He_ then says, gesturing to the house. 

The two children and Jessamine hop in, eager to explore, and when Daud is about to step in, _he_ takes a step to the left and blocks Daud.

“What now?” Daud grumbles. 

_He_ looks gleeful, and he pulls out some kind of stamp (from god knows where), and firmly presses it onto Daud’s left hand before Daud can even react. 

Daud stares at it in confusion, an odd ink stamp of concentric circles and lines. 

“Uh…what?!” 

“It’s my mark, the mark of the Outsider, the mark of-”

“I don’t care what it is, _why_ is it…” Daud pauses, as he sees _his_ smile widen, about to launch into another lengthy, pointlessly stupid explanation. “Actually…nevermind.” 

_He_ just grins, and Daud is let in. 

Corvo just stares, and silently hopes he can be let in without the-

And _he_ raises the stamp expectantly, beaming at Corvo. 

Ah of course not, Corvo sighs. 

Corvo resigns to whatever stupid thing _he_ has in mind, and surrenders his hand to the stamp. 

“No, not the right hand. The left one.” 

Corvo thinks to argue, but he sees the gleeful expression on _his_ face, and Corvo swallows it back, offering his left hand without complaint.

The stupid ink mark is stamped into his skin, and Corvo glares at it for a few seconds in silence before walking in. Emily coos at the sight of the ridiculous mark…stamp…while Corvo settles into a nearby couch, disinterested.

Emily then runs over to _him_ , and tugs on his sleeve. 

“Why don’t I get a mark?” She pouts. 

_He_ turns to smile at her.

“Ah, you’re too young for it. Maybe in a few years, ten…fifteen years, perhaps.” 

“How about me?” Billie asks, popping in. 

“You can ask Daud for one.” He replies simply. 

“How about me?” Jessamine actually asks, more curious than anything. 

“Oh, Empresses can’t get heretical marks. Hm, but if you really wanted one…Maybe when you’re dead.” He says nonchalantly, as if what he said made complete sense. 

“What?! What’s that supposed to mean?” Jessamine laughs, and Corvo scowls. Jessamine’s always so terribly nice to everyone, even to weird people like _him_ , and doing so only encourages him to be even weirder. 

Other guests start streaming in soon after. 

Delilah, Granny Rags, Piero, Havelock…nearly everyone in the neighbourhood is always invited to _his_ party, with one glaring exception being Anton Sokolov, which _he_ dislikes for some reason.

(When Corvo asked him about it once, he merely replied “oh, he doesn’t interest me”, as though that explained everything, and Corvo just gave him a blank look, before shaking his head and accepting it without question.) 

Delilah and Granny Rags get the stamp treatment at the door (Corvo doesn’t care enough to want to ask _him_ to explain his selection criteria, knowing that he’ll rattle off some bizarre excuse, so Corvo remains quiet)

Jessamine and Emily are interacting with everyone else, always friendly and eager to socialise, not like him. Corvo just remains beside the food platter, watching everyone talk and laugh, already on his second plate of food. After sampling all of the food offerings, Corvo decides he likes the rat-shaped cookies best, some kind of butter-flavoured biscuit with white frosting on the top, and he starts piling his plate with mountains of it, eating. 

_He_ is going on with some kind of story, nonsensical as usual, featuring Jessamine, Corvo, and pretty much everyone in the party. 

And sadly, or infuriatingly, the children _enjoy_ listening to all his made up stories. They like whatever ridiculous fantasies he conjures up, convoluted backstories and all, and they are listening to him very attentively, cooing and clapping. _He_ really doesn’t need any more motivation to be weirder than he already is, Corvo thinks darkly. 

He’s going on about some epic tale about a city called Dunwall being overrun by plague rats, with Jessamine the Empress dying (a part Corvo doesn’t enjoy), Daud killing Jessamine (a part Corvo doesn’t enjoy even more), and Corvo going on some crazy journey to put Emily back on the crown (that Emily enjoys). Oh, and apparently Delilah wants to steal the throne, or something equally ridiculous, and Daud is on some melodramatic redemptive journey after having killed Jessamine (Daud is not happy about that, and his unhappiness merely fuels _his_ drive to make Daud even more sappy and pathetic in the story, which honestly entertains Corvo more than it should.)

But Corvo stops paying attention to the story soon enough, instead focusing his attention on the platter of food on the table (most of the dishes all have a whale theme to them). The food is honestly the only reason why he endures coming here each year anyway. 

“Ah dear Corvo, I see you are on your usual conquest of raiding the snacks and sweets. You never cease to surprise me with your limitless capacity to eat.” _He_ comes by to say after he finishes his story, as Corvo munches on another rat-shaped cookie. 

He starts to tell Corvo all about the food, the ingredients, the backstory (yes, there’s _backstory_ to food now), while Corvo just ignores him, filling his plate with even more cookies. Corvo would have usually scowled and moved away from him by now, but he doesn’t want to go too far from the food (which is the only thing keeping him here, frankly), and it’s not like he can actually stop the stupid man from bugging Corvo, so Corvo just sits there, munching. 

“-Those cookies are supposed to symbolise plague rats that come into Dunwall, imported by-”

And Corvo tunes him out yet again, silently waiting for the torturous rambling to end. 

When he finally does many minutes later (maybe hours?), he just remains there, hovering above Corvo creepily, until Corvo finally asks, 

“What?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing. You just fascinate me.”

“Right…and I’ll pretend to care like the other hundred times you’ve told me that.” 

The man grins, black eyes blinking, before finally walking away towards Daud, ready to start his new round of pestering. It’s his second favourite thing to do apart from annoying Corvo, and Corvo watches, mildly entertained by the way Daud gets more irritated with each word he says. 

\----------

It is near midnight when they reach home, and another hour before Emily is tucked into bed.

Corvo finally gets his peace and quiet, and he sinks into the couch, sighing tiredly. Jessamine smiles at him, and Corvo barely smiles back. 

“Whiskeys and cigars?” She asks, holding up – not a whiskey bottle – but an unopened wine bottle in one hand and two empty glasses in the other. Corvo laughs at that. 

“Never doubt it.” He returns, taking the offered wine glass with a smile. 

It’s a quote from some infamously bad commercial many years ago, almost ancient now. But Jessamine and Corvo both remember it well, it was the very commercial that got them together in the first place after all. They had both been watching some movie in the cinema, seated beside together as strangers, and when the commercial came on, the two had laughed out so loudly that everyone started staring at them, and they had looked at each other, embarrassed, before quieting down. 

They started talking to each other after that, and within a year, they got married. Emily came soon after. Funny how life worked that way. 

“This year’s party was fun.” Jessamine says, sitting down beside Corvo with a huff. “Your _Empress_ had a lot of fun.” 

Corvo pours out the wine and sips it, almost sighing at the taste of alcohol. 

“Well your _Royal Protector_ was too busy stuffing himself with rat-shaped cookies to have fun.” 

Jessamine giggles.

Then Corvo adds, 

“On the bright side, I get to retire ‘Corvo _Attano_ ’ for good now.” But then Corvo’s face sours. “…Although Daud is probably still going to spend the rest of the year mentioning it in my face.” 

“It’s not as if you don’t do the same to him.” 

“He deserves it. He’s an old piece of shit.” 

Jessamine snuggles into Corvo in response, her face pressed into his chest. 

Corvo then catches sight of the ink mark on his left hand, and he frowns at it. Jessamine follows his gaze and grabs his hand, finger gently running across the black lines. 

“I tried washing it off earlier. Didn’t work.” Corvo frowns. “What sort of damn ink he use anyway? It better not be permanent, or I’ll be vandalising that stupid whale at his doorstep.” 

Jessamine laughs, and puts Corvo’s hand away. 

She turns on the television after that, and they start to watch whatever that is playing, cuddled together in the couch and drinking wine. 

Jessamine starts to fall asleep sometime later, and Corvo looks upon her sleeping face, relaxed and soft, until he can’t resist it anymore. Corvo pecks a soft kiss to Jessamine’s forehead, and Jessamine’s eyes flutter open, smiling softly. 

“Hey, dumbhead. You missed. You’re supposed to do it here,” Jessamine touches her lips. 

Corvo chuckles a little, but he obliges, his lips brushing against hers. 

Maybe Halloween isn’t _that_ bad after all.


End file.
